


Along Came A Cat

by Sefiru



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Bro Xanxus, Cat Character, Family, Feels, Gen, Homeless Character, Humor, Multi-flame Hayato, Sawada Iemitsu's A+ Parenting, Vongola bros, Xanxus's foul mouth, cat fic, ingenuity, mundane uses of Flames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29386980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sefiru/pseuds/Sefiru
Summary: Hayato's life was going nowhere fast, until the kitten found him.
Comments: 41
Kudos: 123





	Along Came A Cat

(1)

The moment he woke up, Hayato knew he wasn’t alone. A lump of warmth was tucked against his chest; too big to be a rat, although he was right next to a dumpster. He stretched, opened his eyes and cautiously folded back his thin blanket. A cat had decided to share his campsite – a marmalade tabby kitten, barely old enough to be away from its mother. It stirred in response to his movement and blinked amber eyes at him. “Mew?”

“If you want breakfast, I’ve got nothing,” Hayato said. He tentatively scratched the kitten’s ears, then folded up his blanket. He had to be out of here before the shopkeepers arrived to open their businesses.

A small canvas rucksack contained the sum of his possessions. He knew how to expand it with a bit of Cloud, but he owned so little that it hardly mattered. While the kitten watched curiously, he tucked the blanket away. He stood up, and started to walk away from the spot where he’d spent the night. He wondered what would become of the kitten; it was the first affectionate contact he’d had in … a long time. But Hayato could barely take care of himself, let alone another living being.

“Mew!” He looked over his shoulder. The orange kitten was following him, wobbly on clumsy paws too big for its body, a determined look on its face.

“Che, fine.” He turned around and picked up the small animal. He zipped his jacket up halfway and tucked the kitten inside. “You better not pee on me.” The kitten purred and started to tread its paws on his stomach.

(2)

Hayato’s first stop of the day was a convenience store washroom. He set the kitten on the changing tray while he washed up and put on his other change of clothes. He cleaned the used set with his Storm and put it away in the rucksack. While he had a moment of privacy, he counted his money; he had enough left for a week, if he was careful. The jobs open to a barely-teenage freelancer weren’t worth much.

The convenience store also provided a refill of his water bottle and breakfast. Thinking of the kitten, Hayato chose a tuna sandwich – last night’s stock, marked down. It was in a sealed package, so it was fine by him. He sat on a sidewalk bench and fed bits of fish to the kitten. He didn’t even have a bowl for it to drink from, so he poured some water into his cupped hand and let it lap from there. Maybe for dinner he would spring for a tin of sardines.

When he wasn’t on a job his days were monotonous. Part of his time he spent searching for salvage to use or sell, and some he spent hanging around unsecured wifi points so he could scan the Dark Web for contracts. When both of those were exhausted, he might sneak into a library or public concert – always looking over his shoulder for police, traffickers, his father’s men, his sister, and whatever Mafiosi held the local territory.

And often in the evenings, after closing hours, he had nothing to do at all besides smoke and watch the stars. Tonight, though, he shared a dinner of sardines and bread, and then turned bits of string and plastic into a toy for the kitten to chase.

(3)

The next morning, the kitten hadn’t run off. Somehow it had wedged itself into his sleeve and was purring against his arm. Hayato carefully extracted it. “Aren’t cats supposed to have high standards?”

“Mew.” The kitten licked his nose.

His day was a near repeat of the previous one; it was Saturday, so he bought extra food since most of the shops would be closed on Sunday. It was also the last day of the month, so the backpackers’ hostel would be throwing out unclaimed lost-and-found items. Hayato had gotten some good stuff that way, and he didn’t want to miss it now that he had a cat to take care of. Or maybe the cat had him. He really needed to think of a name for it.

“I don’t even know if you’re a boy or a girl …” He briefly turned the kitten over to check; a boy, then. The kitten’s orange fur did suggest a name – one that probably said bad things about Hayato’s mental health, but, screw it. “I’m going to call you Cielo.”

(4)

Hayato picked up a contract that week; a bit of arson, burning down some rich idiot’s sauna. Who needed a sauna in Sicily’s climate, anyway? He brought Cielo with him, along with all of his belongings, to case the place. He shoved his rucksack under a bush and set the kitten down next to it. “I’ll be back soon, ok?”

“Mew?”

Hayato scrambled over the garden wall. It was an unexpected wrench to part from the animal, after several days of near constant contact. What if something happened to him? Rationally, Hayato knew it was more likely that someone would steal his rucksack, but that was just _stuff_.

He foundthe ridiculous sauna, like an oversized wine barrel perched in a corner of the garden. There were no security cameras that he could see; those were closer to the main building. He was still cautious as he approached the sauna. He checked inside, spotted a ring someone had dropped, and pocketed it. Some quick work with Storm and a multitool hotwired the heater to short out, and a curl of Hayato’s Rain kept it from catching fire until he was long gone. He crept back to the spot where he’d come in, and jumped for the top of the wall.

“Hey, did you just hear something?”

Hayato froze, his fingers digging into the crumbling brick. He didn’t dare peek over the wall; by the sound of it, there were two guards on the other side.

“I didn’t hear anything, Are you drunk already?”

“Well, you’re deaf as a post. I swear, there was some sort of noise.”

Hayato held his breath.

“Mew.”

“Is that what you heard, Vittorio? A little kitty cat?”

Hayato was caught between relief for himself and fear for Cielo. What if they hurt him? The security guards were thoroughly distracted, though.

“Hey, we’re supposed to investigate everything.”

“Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!”

“Fuck off.” Hayato waited until they were well out of earshot before climbing over the wall.

Cielo was sitting next to the rucksack looking very pleased with himself. Hayato scooped him up and hugged him. “You’re the best cat in all of Sicily.” Once he got the money for this job, he was going to splurge on a tin of salmon.

(5)

Hayato started scoping out abandoned buildings. Sleeping behind dumpsters was all right for him, but Cielo deserved better. He found his best bet in the Farfalle Famiglia’s territory; they were a minor member of the Vongola Alliance, less bloodthirsty than the Vongola themselves, but just as hard on traffickers. So Hayato could feel a bit safer there. The place he chose was a ruined workshop; half the roof was caved in, but the walls were sound. He cleaned it up wit his Storm, and Rain diverted attention from it. From street rat to squatter – not a huge step up, but a step up nonetheless.

One bit at a time, he improved his hideout. The collapsed roof became a courtyard with potted plants. He kept an eye out for rugs while dumpster diving and layered the floor with them. He built shelves out of bricks and boards. He used lath strips and baking paper to make sliding screens, like he’d seen in pictures of Japanese houses. It reminded him of his mother.

He had his own mug now, and coffee to put in it, and Cielo had a water bowl. And instead of spending his evenings chain smoking, he talked and played with his cat.

(6) 

If they knew about it, the other freelancers would give him shit for keeping a cat. Let alone pretending an orange cat was his Sky; that went past pathetic into outright delusional. Hayato couldn’t bring himself to care. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he told Cielo.

His mother had been taken from him, and nobody else wanted him; even Shamal had thrown him out in the end. Not Cielo, though. “They say Sky Flames are like a home for the other Flame types. A source of stability and warmth. Even if you’re not a real Sky, you’re like that for me. I never would have come up with all of this on my own.” The kitten looked up from his lap almost as if it understood him.

(7)

Soon two months had gone by, and it was trash day at the hostel again. Hayato barely waited for the staff to go back inside before vaulting into the dumpster. A notebook, a stained shirt, three decks of cards, a set of folding chopsticks, and a towel; he quickly filled his pockets with anything that looked useful. He had to work fast before other scavengers turned up. Then he took off to examine his haul in the privacy of his hideout.

A broken alarm clock went into his budding stash of bomb-making materials. The stained shirt and towel were easily cleaned with his Flames. One of the decks turned out to be a pack of hiragana flash cards; he’d keep those, since he could speak Japanese well enough, but his reading was shaky.

Cielo was curious about the cards too; he pounced on the deck and scattered the cards across the rug. He nosed around in them and then, one by one, picked up cards to set in front of Hayato.

O – HA – YO.

(8)

Hayato gaped. “You can understand Japanese?” The kitten nodded. “Then – are you a UMA? What kind? An intellectual animal? Or a nekomata? Maybe you’re an alien in cat form – ” Cielo stretched up to press a paw to his lips. He rummaged around in the flash cards again and spelled out,

NI – N – GE – N 

“You’re a human that was turned into a cat?”

“Mew!” The cards included a circle for ‘correct’ and a red X for ‘incorrect’; Cielo sat down on ‘correct’. Amazing! Had it been done with Mist Flames? Or some form of advanced technology? 

“Um, what should I call you?” he asked.

CHI – E – RO. 

Hayato choked up a little. He understood not wanting to use an old name. But, the name that _he_ had picked. He seized the kitten in a hug; Cielo purred and nuzzled Hayato’s chin. “Do you want to look for your family at all?”

Two cards this time. DA – ME. Did that mean there was no point in looking? That his family was no good? That they thought _he_ was no good? No matter. He had Hayato to take care of him now. “I’m nothing special, though; I don’t know why you chose me to stay with.”

Cielo spelled out DA – I – SU – KI, and curled up in a blushing Hayato’s lap.

(9)

Hayato started to develop a reputation as a freelance bomber. With just a bit of workshop space, he could tailor his explosives any way his clients wanted. While he worked, Cielo was content to nap in a cigar box or in his jacket. He still brought the kitten with him on his jobs – he still took his rucksack of essentials everywhere with him.

Now he could tell Cielo what he was doing and when he expected to be done, and he held himself to that. Even if a thug was chasing him with a club. “You’re dead meat, you little shit!”

Hayato didn’t bother to look back. His package was already in place, and every minute the man wasted on him was a minute closer to it going off. “You think you brats can steal from this house?” Hayato had been caught filching a lemon from a tree on the way out. He ducked down an alley, but the guard knew the local terrain better; he lunged out of a doorway in front of Hayato and grabbed his collar. “Any last words?”

Hayato glared. “If I die here, who’s going to feed my cat?” He lit a flash-bang, shoved it in the man’s face, and bolted. A touch of Sun and Cloud gave him speed, so in moments he was back to where Cielo was waiting with his rucksack. “Let’s go,” he told the kitten, “I’ll explain at home.”

(10)

With a bit more money in his pocket, Hayato ventured into the fish market for some fresh seafood. Cielo was tucked in the front of his jacket; the kitten’s warmth helped to ease his nausea when he caught a whiff of bad fish. His nose and gut guided him on which stands were worthwhile. Cielo’s ears were pricked forward as he looked around.

“Mew!” He stretched a paw towards a booth with bins of shellfish.

“You’re in the mood for shrimp, huh?” Hayato examined the booth; it looked clean, the shellfish fresh and juicy. “One hndred grams of shrimp, please,” he told the vendor. The man scooped them into a bag and weighed them. Once Hayato had them, he peeled one and fed it to Cielo on the spot.

(11)

Hayato heard the rain first, pounding on the roof of his hideout. He slid open the baking-paper screen, looked at the downpour plastering his tomatoes’ leaves to their stems, and closed the screen again. “Nope.”

It was a luxury to just stay in. Hayato had enough food stashed for him and Cielo; he lit a candle lantern and spent the morning reading a comic book to his cat.

Cielo was starting to pick up more Italian. With much shuffling of flash cards, Hayato had learned that Cielo was his age, that he had been travelling in Sicily when he was transformed, and that he liked his current life as a cat. (“Even when it means licking your own butt?” Hayato teased him. Cielo licked his nose in response.)

Lunch was a sardine for Cielo, bread and soup for himself. He’d found out how to use Sun and Cloud to heat things, just as Rain could cool them. He was thinking about nothing in particular when a face appeared in his bowl. “Hi, brat!”

“Gah! Don’t do that, Shamal.”

The deadly doctor leered at him through whatever Mist trick he was using. “Don’t be like that, Hayato. When I heard you got yourself a nickname, I just had to check in on you.”

“Don’t pretend like you give a shit.” Shamal had all but told him he wasn’t good enough.

“Mew?” Cielo peered into the bowl curiously.

“Hayato, when I talked about getting pussy, that is not what I meant.”

“Fuck you.” Hayato started poking the image with his spoon.

(12)

The problem with staying in one place was that it made him easier to find. Not his sister; Hayato could have handled that. Instead, his breakfast was interrupted by a pounding on his door. “We know you’re in there – open up.”

Hayato could sense active Flames, so, not the police. He made a face. His Rain-based SEP field wasn’t perfect, even with Cloud to boost it; a savvy Flame user could get around it. “I’d better see what they want,” he told Cielo, and went to the door.

“What?” He opened it just a crack. There were two Mafiosi in crisp suits and shades, and a gleaming black limo that was totally out of place in the dusty alley.

A meaty hand seized his shoulder. “Get in the car.”

Hayato thought fast. Two men, both twice his size and age; two more in the car, and another on the far side of his hideout. Forget making a run for it. “Wait, my cat!” He wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ leave Cielo behind with no way of knowing if he was coming back.

The mook’s face darkened, but a voice called from the limo, “Let him bring his cat, Marco.”

Hayato ducked back inside; Cielo was perched on his rucksack expectantly. “Mew?”

“I don’t know what this is about, and it could get dangerous,” he said. “But I’ll feel better if you’re with me.” The kitten climbed into his jacket; he shouldered his rucksack, but he also closed and locked the door. He intended to come back here if he could.

Marco shoved him into the limo, which started moving immediately. The sole passenger was a man in his late thirties; his tailored suit and expensive watch were further signs of high rank. Steely eyes studied him for a long moment.

“Smoking Bomb Hayato, you’re an interesting man.”

“So interesting you haven’t searched me for weapons?” Hayato snorted. That was just insulting, even if any one of them could take him out bare handed. 

“Good God, you’re just like my kid brother.” The Boss chuckled. “You’re carrying a switchblade, fifteen assorted explosives, and a piano wire.” Hayato stuck his hands in his pockets and tried not to look impressed. “… So, a cat, huh?”

“Yeah.” Hayato unzipped his jacket halfway, and the kitten stuck his orange-furred head out. “This is Cielo … I _know_ , okay?” He turned away so he wouldn’t have to see the reaction.

“I’m not sure you do,” the Boss said thoughtfully.

(13)

The limo drove in silence for several minutes. Hayato eventually blurted out, “Who are you, anyway? And what the hell do you want with me?”

The older man grinned. “Me? I’m Enrico Vongola, Vongola Decimo.”

“And I’m the King of Spain,” Hayato retorted. The most powerful Don in Sicily? On _his_ doorstep? As if. The two mooks in front bristled at Hayato’s tone, but their Boss just laughed.

“No, really. See?” He raised his hand to display a ring – the shell and bullet emblem, with the letters Vongola inscribed beneath, backlit by a glowing orange crystal.

“Oh,” Hayato said intelligently.

“As for what I want, I was going to ask you some questions, but that turned out to be redundant.” His eyes slid towards Cielo.

“You know who he is.” Hayato wrapped his arms around the kitten. 

Enrico nodded. He held out his hand to Cielo, who sniffed it delicately. “You figured out he’s human, but you didn’t notice the feeling of warmth and home with him?”

“Doesn’t that come naturally with, you know, having a home?”

“That hovel?” Marco scoffed.

“Oi, that’s my hovel and I’m perfectly happy with it.” Hayato made a rude gesture at the … Guardian? Probably. “Wait, are you saying that – ?” He looked down at the orange kitten.

“He’s my baby cousin; yeah, he’s an active Sky. And since you didn’t even react to _my_ Sky, he’s gone and bonded with you, too.”

“So you _are_ the best cat in all of Sicily,” Hayato told Cielo, and took a moment to hug him. Cielo purred and nuzzled his chin. “He didn’t even know about Flames when he met me, though.”

Enrico frowned. “One of many things his father has to answer for. And we’ll find a way to get him human again.”

“Mew!” The kitten hid in Hayato’s jacket.

“I don’t think he wants to change back.”

“He should at least have the option.” The limo pulled up to a marble-fronted mansion. “We’re here.”

(14)

The Vongola manor was even richer on the inside than the outside; Hayato was having flashbacks to his father’s house. And his Cloudy side was starting to growl at getting dragged around. He tucked a protective arm around Cielo.

Enrico led the way to a fancy sitting room where three other men – two obviously related to Enrico, the third with red eyes and feathers in his hair – were in the middle of an argument.

“ – You dumbfucks think anyone will care about all this fucking bling?”

“We’re trying to make a good first impression – ”

“My boot’s going to make an impression on your fucking ass!” The one with the feathers turned to glare at the new arrivals. “About time, Rico. This the trash?”

Hayato bristled. “The name’s Smoking Bomb Hayato. Who the hell are you?”

“Xanxus di Vongola, Capo della Varia.” As in, one of the deadliest killers in Europe. And beside him was Don Vongola, and he was in a room with four Skies – 

“Mew.” – _Five_ skies, and one of them was his. Hayato straightened his spine; Xanxus grinned.

“You’ve met Rico; these are the other two stooges, Massimo and Federico. Money’s rotted all their fucking brains.”

“Harsh, Xan,” complained Federico.

“Moron, which one of us was almost a charred skeleton?”

“Me.”

“And who was it who saved your fucking hide?”

“You.”

“Because I’m the real brains of this operation, and don’t you fucking forget it!”

Enrico cleared his throat. “If we could get to the point, please?”

From the ensuing discussion, Hayato gathered that Cielo’s father had done _something_ to him; had first approached the previous Don, been refused, then did it himself behind the Don’s back. Later he’d bungled a cover-up, turned his son into a cat, and tried to cover _that_ up

“I guess we both have shitty fathers, huh?” muttered Hayato. Xanxus was furious.

“Vindicare is too good for that fucking jackass. You hearing this, Bermuda? Lemme at him, I’ll shove live fucking pufferfish up both ends …” The threats got more imaginative from there.

(15)

“So what happens now?” said Hayato after Xanxus finally calmed down.

“Like I said, he should at least have the choice to turn human,” Enrico answered. “As a Vongola Sky and Guardian, both of you are entitled to a stipend from the family accounts.”

Wait, Guardian? Hayato’s mind stumbled for a moment, then another thing occurred to him. “You’re not going to let us go back to our hideout, are you?”

Enrico grinned. “Yes and no. Xan, you want to show them?”

“Do I look like a fucking errand boy?” Xanxus stood. “Keep up, trash.”

He led Hayato out of the manor and through the gardens. “I’m counting on you to look after the furball, trash. I’ve got enough on my plate keeping those three chucklefucks alive.” 

Hayato scratched the kitten’s ears. “I’d die before I let anything hurt you, Cielo.”

Xanxus snorted. “Sap. Here it is.” 

Here was … _his_ building, the workshop he’d taken over, somehow transplanted to the Vongola grounds. He probed it with his Flames; not a Mist trick. “Are the Vongola insane?”

“Every fucking one of us.”

(16)

Later, surrounded by his own walls and familiar rugs, it seemed almost like a dream. Dinner had been delivered by one of the manor’s cooks – pasta and beans for Hayato, poached trout for Cielo. For all he’d learned today, the kitten’s human name hadn’t come up. Hayato didn’t mind. He could understand wanting to leave behind the social pressures that came with _names_ and _talking_. Just like he preferred this primitive lair to any room in the mansion.

“I wonder if they’ll make me wear a suit … che, I didn’t ask how much that stipend is, do I still need to take contracts?” He might anyway; he’d get bored just sitting around. Or he could make and sell explosives, and let someone else do the risky part. He scratched Cielo’s back.

“Am I supposed to look for Guardians to complete your set? How do I do that? I don’t even know if I’m a good Guardian. Will you still want me around if you’re human again – ” The kitten laid a paw against his lips. Then he curled up in Hayato’s lap and fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> [Once he was the King of Spain!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hX3uAtfgdxc) ^^


End file.
